Welcome to Oregon
by BoatsAgainstTheCurrent
Summary: I've lived in 30 out of the 50 states. 60% of the country. I thought Oregon would be just like any other move. But it wasn't.
1. Welcome to Castle Rock

**Hey everyone! It's been a while since I've written anything and I thought it's about time. I wanted to start with a new story, so here it is. Please note that it will seem quite cliche until the very end of this chapter. Other than that, please review and tell me what you think. **

I moved around a lot as a kid. I can honestly tell you that I lived in 30 out of the 50 states, but not for very long of course. I lived in Alabama, Minnesota, Utah, Iowa, Kansas, Wyoming, New Mexico, New York, Michigan, Ohio, Washington, Mississippi, Arizona, Nevada, Rhode Island, Pennsylvania, Maine, New Hampshire, California, Texas, Arkansas, Florida, Georgia, Indiana, Illinois, Louisiana, Maryland, Nebraska, North Dakota, and now, Oregon. 30 out of the 50 states. That's a hell of a lot of states to live in. That's 60% of the country. I mean, sure, it's a good experience. It was kind of nice to be able to see all of the different sights and learn about the differences between each place. But would you want to pack all of your belongings ever 6 months and take a trip across the country stuffed inside a tiny car? I don't think so. And if you think you would like that kind of life, think again.

I'm 16 and I've already seen more of the country than most people in their 90s have. In fact, I might be the most experienced kid in the entire country.  
Now, I bet your wondering why I've lived my whole life like this. And honest to God, it's only for fun. My dad told me that every single time we moved, and yeah, I didn't believe him for the first ten years either. But then I got old enough to realize that he was telling the truth. My dad didn't have a job that made him transfer every few months; all he had was me and the millions of dollars he had inherited from his filthy rich parents.

Oregon. Newest street sign to pass. I take a picture of it on my bulky camera. 30th. Only 20 left to see. Welcome to Oregon, it reads. It's a small sign, barely noticeable in the plain landscape. The background is green and has a white blob on it meant to be the shape of the state.  
"Welcome to Oregon," I repeat to myself in a whisper as my father's tiny car rolls along the gravel road.  
It's hard to tell you whether I'm excited or not. I'm so used to the moving by now that the state doesn't seem any different from any of the others.  
My dad and I ride across the open landscape, coming across only cows and the smell of manure. There isn't a house or town in sight (unless you count a run-down barn).

"Are you sure there's a town called Castle Rock anywhere near here?" I ask my dad cautiously after a long moment of silence.  
He takes a moment to respond; after all, we're both exhausted, "Should be coming up soon."  
Just as he says these words, I notice a sign up ahead, waving back and forth slightly with the wind.  
"Castle Rock, town limits: ten miles ahead," I read aloud.  
My father cracks a tired, but happy smile, "See, almost there."

I sit still, watching the fields roll by through the open window. I'm still amazed that there could possibly be a town near here. We've been driving through open landscape for the past two hours. I become excited at the fact that soon I would actually be seeing something besides emptiness. I would finally be near homes and people again.  
I begin to drift into drowsiness as my head drops against the open window. The breeze rustles my hair and my eyes close as another sign approaches. I snap them open again and read clear as day, "Welcome to Castle Rock."  
My dad turns his head to look at me and repeats, "Welcome to Castle Rock."

Up ahead I see a small bridge crossing a creek and hundreds of trees covering what I begin to make out as small businesses. I stretch to look out of the window just as the car starts stuttering and the engine dies.  
"Damn it," my father whispers, looking intently at the gas meter. It's empty, of course.  
"Well, at least we made it this far," I say, cringing at the thought of being stuck out in the middle of nowhere. My dad opens the car door, and I follow.  
"Okay, looks like we have to push," he says, looking off one hundred feet ahead of us where the bridge is.  
We walk to the trunk of the car and start pushing through the gravel. The air is muggy and I hear all kinds of creatures in the woods surrounding us. Just a few more feet, I repeat to myself over and over again after twenty minutes. I'm covered in mud, sweat, and itchy mosquito bites.

"Yep, welcome to Oregon," I say again to my dad, beginning to already conclude the turn out of this move.  
He laughs and wipes a bead of sweat off of his forehead.  
We finally make it across the bridge, but not without the passing of a speeding car full of drunk teenagers. They pass us, laughing, throwing beer bottles into the creek, and spraying me and my father completely with mud.

I finally rest against the back of the car, taking a chance to see where I landed this time. It's old-looking, but nice at the same time. Ahead of my is a long road that seems to branch of in the distance. There are street lights aligning it on both sides and a few small businesses as well. Directly to my right is a row of trees, but behind it I see an empty lot with what appears to be an old tree house directly in its center.  
I find myself drawn to it, as if an invisible force were pulling me towards it. I leave my father behind, catching his breath and wiping his hands off on his trousers.

The lot is a wide open space with nothing but the tree house making it stand out. I approach it slowly, slightly afraid of it but not understanding why.  
It looks fairly ordinary. It's patched together with pieces of wood and has a very small window at the front. A ladder sticks out from underneath. I notice nothing that tells me it is still in use, and am about to go in, until I see the footprints.  
My heart rate goes up as I take my hand from the ladder.  
I strain myself to hear a voice coming from inside, and sure enough, "Shh!"  
I stop in my tracks.

"Dude, someone's out there."  
"Teddy, you're completely delusional."  
"Shut up! No I'm not. I'm serious, someone's out there."  
The voices continue for a few moments until I here a creaking from above.  
Damn it.

The latch directly above my head opens slowly and boy with a mop of hair and horrible coke-bottle glasses stares at me.  
"What the hell?" He says.  
I don't respond.  
"Teddy, who is it?" A new voice asks. He sounds frightened.  
The boy named Teddy disappears and the voices continue on inside the tree house. After I sit there awkwardly for a few moments, the latch opens yet again, but this time I see a new face. A boy with short blonde hair and blue eyes looks at me and raises his eyebrows. "Come in," he says and stands up to hold the door open for me.

I find myself not uttering a word and slowly climbing the ladder into the little house.  
Inside are four boys around my age, all of completely different builds and looks.  
One of them is sitting on the floor looking frightened. He's chubby. The Teddy kid is sitting on a chair, smoking a cigarette, and looking at me suspiciously.  
The boy with the blonde hair stands off in a corner, expressionless, right next to a boy lying on a hammock, writing in a journal.  
"So," Teddy begins, rising from his chair, "What's your name?"  
I respond automatically, "Douglas. Douglas Brinkley."


	2. Welcome to Castle Rock High

**Chapter 2 is up! I would really like to thank all the people who reviewed Chapter 1. You guys don't even know how appreciated it is. Thanks to VogueCharlotteVogue, Izout, OldiesGirlWithAPencil, celestialstarynight, Mrs. Ace Merrill, and manicdora. Also, if anyone has any ideas for the continuation of this story, I would really appreciate it. I'm always open to ideas and opinions. I hope you guys all like this chapter! **

I look back on that first day in Castle Rock and wonder why things turned out the way they did. I'm sure you're thinking that I became best friends with that gang immediately. But that's definitely not what happened. Instead, they were just a random group of guys I met on my first day. Teddy asked me what my name was, I answered. He laughed at me a few seconds (an abnormally screechy laugh that gave me a headache) and made fun of me for having a "nerd" name. Chris asked me who I was and where I came from and a dry, boring conversation ensued. It was only slightly awkward. After that, I left. I simply exited the tree house and walked away, knowing I just wouldn't be friends with these boys. I don't know exactly what it was, but something told me that it just wouldn't happen.

I must admit, I kind of forgot about them instantly. I went back to my dad's car and helped him push it the rest of the way home. Then I immediately laid down to take a nap. The next morning I got up, ate some breakfast, and started with the unpacking. Life went on. It was midway through summer and I only crossed paths with the four boys a few times when I ran into them at either the candy shop or the town diner.

Summer was a drag. I made no friends and I spent most of my time up in my room, stuffing my face with PEZ and watching episode after episode of Wagon Train. The only exciting thing I witnessed at all was when the women from the hair salon came into the local drug store and started talking to the clerk about some kid who had been hit by a train four years back.

But September 3rd is finally here and I am ready to start over at a new school.  
"Ready to go, Doug?" My dad calls through the house as I get up out of bed. I shout my reply back to him, stumbling through the room I have already completely trashed. I open my drawer and shuffle around for a fresh pair of socks and blue jeans. I quickly throw on a t-shirt that looks like it hasn't been washed in ages, but I'm too tired to care.

I grab a backpack I stored in my closet and make sure all my necessary school items are in there: Notebooks, pencils, pens.  
I throw it over my shoulder and run through my bedroom door and out into the hallway. I go into the bathroom directly across from my room and brush my teeth and wash my face, observing how much better my acne has gotten. It hasn't.

"Hey dad," I say quickly as I walk into the kitchen and grab a slice of toast from the toaster. I run towards the cupboard, grab some jam, spread it on my toast, say bye to my dad, and make me way out the front door.

The town looks even more deserted in the morning than it does in the afternoon. It's dewy from last night's rain and the clouds are still dark, covering the sky completely and blocking any sunlight.

The school isn't very far from where I live. It's sort of hidden in the very corner of town, a very small school both population-wise and area-wise. Only about 150 students attend, about 38 in each graduating class. I heard that most students in Castle Rock drop out before they even enter Junior High.

I am shocked to find that as I walk through the town, I am completely relaxed about being in a new school, after all this is about the 20th I've attended. In all my years of new school experience, I've picked up some things. Pretty much every school is the same. You walk in, the teacher embarrasses you by making you introduce yourself to the whole class, and you sit down next to some dweebs for the rest of the year. Usually the teacher ends up being a complete asshole too and thinks it's necessary to always call on you, even if there's some nerd who'd rather answer the question.

I'm finally at the school when the bell rings. A few other kids scurry into the small building before me. I recognize one of them to the chubby kid I met on my first day in Castle Rock; Vern. He is the last one in before me and he seems to notice me. He looks at me for a split second, turns away, and looks back once he recognizes my face. But we don't exchange any greetings.

* * *

"Good morning, class," the teacher, Mr. Billson says, writing his name up on the chalkboard, "I hope you all had a marvelous summer."  
I snort shortly; he doesn't sound at all like he hopes we had a marvelous summer. Luckily he doesn't notice the snort and he quickly goes to talking about the semester-long government course.

I find a seat in the very back of the room, avoiding the girls in the front, giggling and checking each-other's makeup.

Mr. Billson keeps talking about government despite the lack of attention from his students. I look around the room in amazement, wondering if he's deaf to all the chatter. The jocks are sitting in the corner as a group, not even facing the front of the room. The girls are at the front, some of them falling asleep on their desks, and others giggling nonstop (the popular girls I immediately assume).

"Yeah, just like any other high school," I say to myself. The only difference is the size; otherwise, it has all the ingredients for being a typical school.

Mr. Billson finally seems to notice the noise and he raises his voice.  
"Okay everyone, let's settle down please," he says.  
It takes the class a few long moments, but eventually they quiet down and face the front of the room.  
"Thank you," he says calmly, with a smile.

I'm shocked at how well he's taking the class. He doesn't seem bothered or irritated like every other teacher has.  
"So, would someone like to tell me the type of government that the United States has?"  
I laugh silently to myself, "What is this, Kindergarten?"  
A jock from the corner of the room raises his hand.  
"Yes, Mr. Parker?" Mr. Billson asks him expectantly.  
"A monarchy."

The whole class bursts into fits of laughter. I raise my eyebrows, not immediately sure whether the kid was being serious with his answer or not.  
"Very funny, Mr. Parker," Mr. Billson says with a slight smile, "Could anyone else give me a serious answer?"  
He looks around the classroom and I just know he's about to call on me, because I'm the new kid.

He scans the room, his eyes land on me, I think "here it is", but then he continues scanning and calls on a girl at the front, covered from head to toe in pink.  
I sit back, in somewhat of a shock that he didn't call on me, and in even more shock that he ignored me entirely. He didn't make me stand in front of the classroom and tell everyone three interesting facts about myself.  
Maybe Oregon's going to be different.


	3. The Cobra Encounter

**Hey everyone. I really hope you guys like this next chapter. I'd love a review to tell me how to continue the story! Thanks to my reviewers for being awesome. Okay, you may read on. **

My father wakes me up on a Saturday morning and tells me to go fetch some milk and eggs at the local grocery store. I'm tired and unwashed, but I get up without complaint and throw on the cleanest pair of jeans I can find.

My room is still as messy as a pig sty, even after being in Castle Rock for six weeks, but I find my way around it. I rummage through my closet for a decent-looking shirt and scour the room for a pair of socks. I find one under my bed and another lying on top of my Government homework on my desk. After I pick up the sock, I look down at the homework and scowl. I'm expected to read forty pages of text and answer fifty questions all in one weekend. Normally I don't have a problem with school at all, in fact I quite enjoy it, but Government just makes me want to hurl.

I take the sock, turn away from the homework that I'll have to sit down and do later in the day, and make my way out of the room, grabbing the five bucks off of my desk that my dad gave me for the milk and eggs. "Buy yourself some candy if you want to," he added, "there'll be plenty of money left over."

I head through the door and down the hall, trying to comb my hair down as best as I can without using a brush (it's sticking up in all different directions). My shoes are still lying at the foot of the stairs in a messy heap along with all the other shoes I threw off my feet when I was too lazy to remove them by hand. I grab them and head out the door, shouting a quick "bye" to my dad.

I step into the fresh late summer air and make my way down the empty streets. I kick up some gravel lazily, creating a cloud of dust.

I live on, quite possibly, the most boring street in the whole town. The homes are all a horrible vomit shade and have the exact same structure all around. The first time I had to walk home on my own, I wasn't quite sure which one was mine.

I finally reach the end of the street and make a left onto Main Street, the road that runs straight through downtown. Not many people are out and about, though I do run into Chris Chambers. We don't actually speak, but I notice that he seems to be badly bruised and walking with a slight limp.  
I creep past him as he hobbles through the town on his own and try not to imagine what could have caused his injuries.

* * *

I walk past the Blue Point Diner and the laundromat, finally reaching the town's small grocery store. I don't bother grabbing a cart as I worm my way through the entrance, trying to get around a couple of elderly ladies. My goal is simple: get to the milk and the eggs and go back to the cashier.  
I'm a reserved person, so shopping is a bit of a pain, as I have to come in contact with human beings. For this reason, I quickly look for the items I need and head back to the front of the store, hoping to get out of there as soon as possible, and desperately hoping not to run into any trouble.  
But just my luck.

I pay for my items without a problem, head out the double doors, and am about to heave a sigh of relief when a body rams into me from the side, causing me to drop the milk and eggs.  
The carton breaks open and the milk splatters all over me. The eggs all crack and create a mess of egg yolk on the sidewalk.  
"Shit," I murmur, hopelessly going through the contents on the ground, trying to find a safe egg.

The person that ran into me doesn't even apologize, but snickers lightly. I haven't even had a chance to see who it is yet.  
I look up to find the familiar face of Ace Merrill, leader of the Cobras, looming above me. He is holding onto a boy I recognize to be Vern Tessio with such strength, Vern looks paralyzed. Ace's gang crowds behind him, one of them smoking a cigarette, another drinking a beer.

"So Tess," Ace says menacingly to Vern, "is this one of your pathetic friends who helped you boost my car?" He looks down at me with a smirk.  
"No," Vern chokes helplessly, "I swear. I don't even know this kid."  
I suddenly feel very exposed and the fact that I have suddenly been dragged into this "boosting someone's car" business, doesn't make me feel any better.

Ace's face hardens, the tooth pick in his mouth snaps, and he grips Vern even harder. I feel kind of bad for the kid, but I don't attempt to help him.  
Ace is about to say something again, but as he opens his mouth to speak, I hear a very different voice shout from behind me, "Leave him the fuck alone, Ace!"

The Cobras all glance up quickly and begin to chuckle lightly. The boy who called was Chris Chambers. He slowly walks toward us, one hand covering his left eye, the other holding a cigarette. He still limps and from the look on his face he seems to be in extreme pain. Following him are Teddy Duchamp and Gordie Lachance, his fellow gang members. I remember the boys well from our first encounter and the few after that. Gordie is the tall, skinny one with big brown eyes and shaggy brown hair. Teddy has coke bottle glasses and a mop of light brown hair. He wears a dog tag necklace and the look on his face shows his pure anger.

The three boys advance towards us and Vern looks absolutely relieved to see them.  
Ace isn't bothered by the sudden appearance at all. In fact, he looks like he was expecting if, as if it happens all the time.  
"Alright, so your long awaited friends are finally here," Ace says, as if reading my mind.

* * *

Within a few minutes, a hell of a lot happens. I find myself in the middle of it all, not moving from my spot on the cement, even though it would have been logical for me to just run in the middle of the chaos.

Chris confronts Ace, which is obviously not the smartest idea. He ends up face down on the ground with a lit cigarette to his face. Gordie jumps in to defend his friend and ends up held against the brick wall of the grocery store. Teddy starts swinging violently at Billy and Eyeball, and he too ends up sprawled next to Chris.

I watch in shock as all of this unravels, wondering how it is even possible that no one notices anything happening. Then I remind myself that Castle Rock is virtually abandoned.

Minutes go by and Ace menacingly talks on and on about this and that and a boosted car and a bunch other worthless shit. I simply wish that I had stayed home. What rotten luck that I had to go to the grocery store.

* * *

Just as I start to consider leaving, I find myself back in the middle of the mess.  
"I swear, I barely know this kid!" Vern shouts, "and like I already told you, I didn't boost any car!"  
Vern looks frightened out of his mind, and I can immediately tell that he is telling the truth. He wasn't the one who boosted Ace's car.

In a surprising act of bravery, I stand up from the pile of milk and eggs and the empty cartons and look straight at Ace, "I believe him."  
"What the fuck?" He replies, looking genuinely shocked to see I had spoken.  
"I believe Vern," I say clearly, looking him dead in the eyes, "He didn't boost any car."  
The Cobras all start laughing. Every guy except Ace. He just stands there growing colder and more menacing by the second.  
"So your little smartass friend here dared to speak," Ace looks at Vern, not loosening his grip on him at all.  
"Okay you little bastard, I'm going to give you a chance to tell me the full truth," Ace once again turns to me and looks me in the eye. I can tell he means business, so I swallow slowly, open my mouth to speak, and am interrupted by Teddy.

"He didn't boost the fuckin car, god damn it. Neither of them did," he says, looking from me to Vern, "It was me."  
Vern heaves a sigh of relief.  
Chris looks up from his uncomfortable position and looks at Teddy in shock. Why would he admit something like that?

I stand there paralyzed for the next few seconds as Teddy gets approached with a knife, but Chris and Gordie dive in to save him. I can barely process what is happening until it's already over. The whole fiasco lasts only a few moments, and soon enough, Chris, Gordie, Teddy, and Vern are running off into the early morning sun.

I'm shocked to find that I'm left behind, surrounded by a bunch of scary Cobras. Ace is leaning against a car parked on the side of the road and he flicks his cigarette to the side.

_I should really go, _I say to myself.

I prepare myself to leave quietly, but it's already too late. Ace turns to me, "Hey! Kid, get over here."

I gulp, too afraid to reply. I obediently walk to where he and his gang are grouped.  
"How old are you?" He asks me casually.  
I am fully shocked to hear this coming from him.  
"Sixteen," I say hesitantly.  
Ace smirks slightly, "You look older. That's a good thing."  
I still have no words to say anything else.  
"I like this kid, boys," Ace loudly announces to the six other guys crowded around him, "How bout we make him a Cobra?"

The other Cobras look as shocked as I do at this new development.  
"What d'ya say, kid?" Ace asks me calmly, almost too kindly. He takes a fresh cigarette from the pack, waiting for my response.  
A few moments pass before I am fully able to process what has just happened. Me? A Cobra? These guys are all in their twenties. I'm only sixteen.  
A million thoughts whirl through my mind before Ace snaps me back to reality, "Well?"  
And how am I supposed to say no to the meanest, most bad ass guy in town?


End file.
